


I Never Said I Was a Hero

by gingerink



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Arc Reactor, Brocedes, F/M, Flirting, Gen, Iron Man AU, Iron Man Lewis, Lewis is a rich billionaire, M/M, Pepper Nico, Romance, Torture, and basically everybody else - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5033563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerink/pseuds/gingerink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis is a big man in a suit of armour. Take that away, what is he? A genius, billionaire, playboy, and a philanthropist. Nico, his long suffering PA, still could punch him in the face and cancel all his appointments if he wanted to.</p><p>Basically, the Brocedes Iron Man AU that nobody wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arc Reactor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ILLEGAILE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILLEGAILE/gifts).



> This is part one of two, I'm hoping, of a belated birthday fic for my darling Gaile. Sorry it's late, darling. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Nico watches as Lewis steps off the plane, his arm in a sling. There’s a small cut on his cheek, the only evidence of his time in Afghanistan, the only proof that Lewis was held by a terrorist outfit against his will, doomed to create new nuclear weapons for them. Nico had followed the news, had bought every paper and combed through it for clues as to Lewis’s status. Nico feels the exhale brush past his lips as Lewis gingerly picks his way down the steps of his cherry-red jet. His brown eyes immediately fall on Nico and a wide grin breaks out across his face.  
  
“Nico-“ Lewis smiles like nothing has ever happened.  
  
“Don’t even talk to me-“ Nico spits out from behind his wide smile. “You could have died-“  
  
“Yeah, I’m sorry they don’t have satellite phones in Afghanistan.” Lewis jokes.  
  
Nico smiles tightly, pulling Lewis into him by the lapel of his suit; even though Lewis is inured, he still has a part to play in the public eye. “If you ever try anything like that again, I’ll be personally organising your funeral.”  
  
Lewis grins at Nico. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Rosberg.”  
  
He slips on his pair of rose coloured sunglasses and grins at the assembled press. Nico watches the flashes go off in Lewis’s face, his smile wide, his suit pristine. Lewis slides into the Mercedes waiting for him, flashing a peace sign as he disappears behind the tinted glass. Nico follows him; his phone is already ringing; he clicks ignore and slides into the leather seat next to Lewis.  
  
Lewis seems to deflate once he’s inside the car, the pain seems to curve over his features. He leans back into the leather.  
  
Nico’s phone begins to buzz once more.  
  
“I bet you’re considering quitting now aren’t you?”  
  
“Maybe.” Nico says, not looking up from his phone.  
  
“Shame, personal assistants are so hard to come by.” Lewis says, the leather creaking underneath him.  
  
“Well, a personal assistant for Lewis Hamilton is impossible, if you have a life, you must get rid of it immediately, must be at your bosses beck and call, must run his company most of the time when he’s out getting drunk and banging Playboy models-“ Nico says bitterly.  
  
Lewis raises an eyebrow. “Well, it takes a lot of effort to keep up that façade, Nico.”  
  
The car pulls up outside the headquarters. Nico glances up at Lewis’s name, Hamilton emblazoned on the side in bright white letters.  
He leans over, fixing Lewis’s bowtie. Lewis smiles at him, it’s not as wide as it usually is, it’s gentler, more genuine. Nico feels his finger move over to ghost over the cut on Lewis’s cheek. Lewis flinches slightly, his eyes are dark. Nico’s finger brushes over the mark once before he smiles.  
  
“Go get ‘em tiger.” He says quietly. Lewis winks at him and opens the car door, his smile curving over his lips.  
  
“It’s only Ron.” He says, as the flashes begin once more.

* * *

  
Lewis is stopped outside the Expo venue by an eager fan who presses his programme underneath Lewis’s nose. Lewis smiles as he signs his name with a flourish. The fan waves a camera around in his face. Lewis winds his arm around the fan’s shoulder.  
  
“I don’t want to see this on your Facebook.” He says. “And no gang signs-“ He says as the fan throws up a peace sign.  
  
“No, no, I’m just kidding, throw them up.” He continues as the fan carefully makes the peace sign at the camera. “Peace? I love peace, I’m out of a job without peace.”  
  
The camera shutter flashes. Lewis grins widely.  
  
“Lewis Hamilton, a visionary, a genius. Even from an early age, the son of legendary weapons developer, Anthony Hamilton, quickly stole the spotlight with his brilliant and unique ideas. At age four, he built his first circuit board. At age six, his first engine. At 17, Lewis’s life changed forever.”  
  
Ron Dennis pauses for a moment. “My lifelong friend and ally passed away in a tragic car accident, and I stepped in to help fill the gap left by Anthony. Until the age of 21, when Lewis returned and is given the title of new CEO of Hamilton Industries. With the keys to the kingdom, Lewis ushered in a new era for his father's legacy, creating smarter weapons, advanced robotics, satellite targeting. Today, Lewis Hamilton has changed the face of the weapons industry by ensuring freedom and protecting Europe. And here he is, ladies and gentlemen, back from a terrifying ordeal in Afghanistan. My co-partner, it’s Lewis Hamilton.” Ron announces to the baying crowd.  
  
The cameras begin to flash once more, the crowd erupts into murmured whispers as Lewis walks out onto the stage. The whispers become cheers as Lewis smiles widely at the crowd, flashing a peace sign. Ron envelopes him into a hug, his smile wide and pronounced as he lets his hand fall into Lewis’s hair.  
  
“I’m glad you’re back.” He whispers.  
  
“I’m glad I’m back too.” Lewis smiles before Ron releases him and stands aside to allow Lewis to speak into the microphone.  
  
“It’s been a while-“ Lewis smiles. “I wish it was in better circumstances, I mean, I’ve got a bad arm and my heart is all fucked up…sorry, but I would like to thank you all for attending this press conference-“ Lewis blinks, he feels the crowd melt away as his lips keep moving. He remembers a face covered in blood and dirt, the gravelly voice, the dark eyes inches from his own.  
  
“Lucky to be alive-“ Lewis remembers the pain, like a dull edge of a knife.  
  
He pushes his hair back, his fingers come back matted with blood. He blinks twice, the red is stark against his dark skin. His fingers move to where the pain is radiating out of his chest, his fingers brush over crudely drawn stitches, jet black over his skin, pulling it together. His eyes widen in horror, as his fingers move over the metal stitched into his chest.  
  
“Don’t touch it, it’s an electromagnet that is stopping the shrapnel from entering your heart tissue, without it, you would be dead within a week.”  
  
Lewis feels the darkness sweep back over him. He opens his eyes, the crowd still linger before him. “And therefore, as from today, Hamilton Industries will no longer be making weapons-“  
  
The crowd falls silent. Lewis glances over to where Ron is standing in the wings, his face is shocked.  Lewis grins once more, ignoring Ron’s worried glances. The camera flashes seem to intensify. Nico looks on, worry flooding his eyes.  
  
“What were you thinking, Lewis? Your company is based on the fact that you manufacture weapons-“ Ron turns on Lewis the moment the cameras are switched off, his eyes narrowed, his jaw set, his face half in shadow.  
  
Lewis holds up a hand. “Relax, Ron, I learnt some things whilst I was away-“  
  
Ron smiles back but it’s slightly twisted. “What things, Lewis?”  
  
“When I was in Afghanistan, the group that took me…they stockpiled weapons. They had our weapons, Ron, my name emblazoned on the side of those missiles. I would recognise my designs anywhere…I realised that I don’t know whose hands my designs will end up in anymore. I don’t want to be the cause of more death than I have to be.”  
  
“Lewis-“ Ron begins, his hand on Lewis’s shoulder, fingers rubbing over the suit.  
  
“I’ve made up my mind, Ron.” Lewis smiles once more as he traipses off the stage, head held high.  


* * *

  
Nico is glaring daggers at Lewis when he slides back into the Mercedes parked at the front. He’s tapping into his smartphone with a frightening intensity.  
  
“You’re angry at me.” Lewis notes as he feels himself fall into the soft leather seat.  
  
“You need to start telling me when you announce things like this, Lewis.” Nico says, his green eyes ablaze. “  
  
“I did tell you…didn’t I?” Lewis pulls off his sunglasses. Nico can see the dark smudges under his eyes.  
  
“No, you didn’t, as always. It’s okay, I’ll handle it-“Nico begins. Lewis’s hand moves to close over his own.   
  
“Nico, I don’t want you to handle it, you need a rest from everything, you do enough for me-“  
  
Nico pushes his free hand through his hair. “I know, Lewis, but you’ve announced your intent and our stocks are falling, investors are getting worried-“  
  
“Let them worry, Nico.” Lewis smiles widely.  
  
“Lewis, it’s not as easy as that-“ Nico says quietly. “Just let me sort out this mess you made.”  
  
Lewis’s smile dims, his hands slides away. He closes his eyes, he thinks about blood on sand, he thinks about the metallic taste in the back of his mouth.  
  
“Lewis Hamilton, the most famous mass-murderer in Europe, bigger than Putin. He wants you to build this missile.” He was hidden in shadows, but the man spoke fast-paced Russian to the shadows. He was a slip of a man, glasses perched on his nose.  
  
A blueprint of a familiar missile hangs before Lewis’s eyes. He blinks, feeling the blood run down his temple. “And if I refuse?”  
  
The man smiles, his teeth are stained from tobacco. “I don’t think you will. You give him a list of materials and he will provide them. When you are done, it will set you free.”  
  
Lewis smiles back. “Not he won’t.”  
  
“No, he won’t.” The man smiles back. He stays behind as the leader disappears into the shadows.  
  
“I’m sure they’re looking for you, Hamilton. They will never find you in these mountains.” He casts a glance over the missiles stockpiled up against the side of the cave. “This is your legacy, Hamilton. Your life’s work in the hands of those murderers, is this how you want it to end?”  
  
“Why should I do anything? They’re going to kill me anyway.” Lewis says bitterly. “If not, I’ll be dead within a week.”  
  
“Better make it a brilliant final week then.” The man says, smiling.

* * *

  
“Mr Hamilton.” The reporter is blonde, big breasted, blue eyes, white smile. Lewis smiles as he slides on his sunglasses.  
  
“I’m from Vanity Fair, can I ask you a few questions?” The reporter asks, smiling widely at Lewis.  
  
“Yeah, sure.”  
  
“You’ve been called the Leonardo di Vinci of our time-“  
  
“That’s a ridiculous notion, I don’t paint.”  
  
“What about your other nickname, the Merchant of Death?” Her smile twists slightly in the light.  
  
“That’s not bad.” Lewis smiles back. Her hand moves to brush over the lapel of his suit. “I guess you rehearsed that speech in front of the mirror a few times.”  
  
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She smirks.  
  
“Actually, I would.” Lewis mirrors her expression, pulling off his sunglasses and winking at her. Her fingers remain on the lapel of his suit.

* * *

  
The reporter wakes up the next morning in Lewis Hamilton’s bed. She gently brushes back her blonde hair as she slips on one of his shirts; his expensive aftershave drifting over her nose. She pads through the empty apartment, marvelling at the view of Monaco through the double French windows.  
  
“Good morning,” A feminine voice seems to speak out, filling the entire apartment. “The temperature in Monaco is twenty eight degrees, the weather will remain clear and warm.”  
  
“Lewis?” The blonde wrinkles her nose as she glances around. She approaches another door with a keypad. She presses a few of the buttons, and an alarm sounds out, blaring loudly.  
  
“You are not authorised to access this area.” The feminine voice seems sharper.  
  
“I see you met Vivian.” Another voice appears behind her, this one is softer, masculine. She spins on her heel seeing a familiar face, a face that appears behind Lewis on most of the photographs of him in the tabloids.  
  
“She runs the house. I have your clothes here, all washed and ironed, and there’s a car outside waiting to take you wherever you want to go.”  
  
The reporter raises an eyebrow. “You must be the famous Nico Rosberg.”  
  
“I am.” Nico says evenly, handing over the clothes. He tries not to glance at the button down shirt ghosting over the woman’s pale skin.  
  
The woman smiles as she accepts the clothes. “After all these years, Lewis still has you picking up his dry cleaning.”  
  
Nico smiles back. “I do everything and anything that Mr Hamilton requires; including, occasionally taking out the trash. Will that be all, Miss?”  
  
The smile fades from her face. Nico smiles as he turns on his heel, his shoes clicking on the floor.

* * *

  
“Give me an expanded view of that cylinder.” Lewis says, pressing his glasses up onto his nose as he glances over every detail of the hologram in front of him.  
  
He hears the familiar sound of a keycard sliding through the slot and the door slowly opening. Nico’s voice sounds out from behind him. “Vivian, please turn out this racket-“  
  
“Nico, Tupac is a genius. Every genius needs genius music to do his good work.”  
  
“You’re supposed to be in Russia right now, Lewis.” Nico says evenly, checking his watch.  
  
Lewis ignores his statement, his eyes still on the hologram before him. “How did she take it?”  
  
“As they always do, Lewis. Don’t change the subject, you have ten minutes.”  
  
“Why are you eager to get rid of me, Rosberg?” Lewis smiles widely.  
  
“Because your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago.” Nico snaps back, rolling his green eyes.  
  
“That’s funny, I thought with it been my plane and all, that it would wait for me to get there.” Lewis smirks as he pushes the hologram away.  
  
“I have to run a couple of things by you, too-“ Nico follows Lewis around his office, glancing down at his tablet. “There’s another buyer in for the Senna car-“  
  
“Doesn’t it defeat the whole point of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Lewis says absent mindedly.  
  
“Lewis, are you listening to me?” Nico raises his voice slightly.  
  
Lewis cocks his head. “Raise the offer by another…what would you say, one or two million?”  
  
“Two million should secure it.” Nico replies. “I also need you to sign this before you leave.”  
  
“What are you trying to get rid of me for? Have you got plans?” Lewis teases.  
  
“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m allowed to have plans on my birthday.” Nico replies.  
  
Lewis’s eyes betray a little hurt. “It’s your birthday? Already?”  
  
“Yes, already, Lewis. Strange how it happens on the same day as it did last year.”  
  
Lewis slides on his suit jacket. “Get yourself something nice from me.”  
  
“I already did.” Nico smirks.  
  
Lewis raises an eyebrow. “And?”  
  
“It was nice, very tasteful. Thank you, Mr Hamilton.”  
  
“You’re welcome, Mr Rosberg.”  
  
Lewis feels himself be pulled back into his memories; he remembers the blood sticking to his temple. It’s dried against his hair; the light is still swinging from the chain as he remembers making a list in his mind of everything he’d need; the group who took him wrote everything down. They were true to their word. They supplied him with everything he had asked for.  
  
“So how many languages do you speak?”  
  
“A lot, they speak Arabic, Urdu, Russian-“  
  
“But not English.” Lewis asks.  
  
“They have no need for English. What is that?” The man asks, watching Lewis smile as he holds up the small silver-white ring of metal.  
  
“Palladium. Relax, I have steady hands.” Lewis says as he begins assembling his equipment. The man’s eyes remain on the silver-white ring.  
  
“What do I call you?”  
  
“Senna.”  
  
“Nice to meet you.” Lewis says, rubbing a hand through his hair.  
  
“Nice to meet you too. I have heard of your greatness. You’re the man who has everything and nothing. That doesn’t look like a missile.” Senna notes, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“It isn’t a missile, it’s a miniature arc reactor. It should keep the shrapnel away from my heart muscle. It should generate three gigajoules per second.”  
  
“That could run your heart for fifty lifetimes, how impressive you are, Mr Hamilton.”  
  
“Maybe, it could last for fifteen minutes but it’s our ticket to get out of here. Oh, and Senna?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Call me Lewis.”

* * *

  
“Excuse me, Mr Rosberg? Can I have a word?” Nico spins around, his eyebrow raised, his fingers still on his tablet screen. The man standing before him is much older, thinning hair and a crooked nose. His face is grave.  
  
“You’ll have to wait until later to speak to Mr Hamilton, I’m afraid-“  
  
“I actually needed to speak to you first, my name is agent Paddy Lowe. I work for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division-“  
  
“That’s quite a mouthful.” Nico says, his mouth curling with a smile.  
  
“We’re working on it.” Agent Lowe smiles back.  
  
“We’ve already been approached by the FIA, FBI-“  
  
“We’re a separate division with a more specific focus. We need to debrief Mr Hamilton about the circumstances of his escape.” The agent’s face has become grave once more.  
  
“I’ll put something in the book, shall I?” Nico replies, turning back to his tablet for a moment. When he glances back up, Agent Paddy Lowe is gone.

* * *

  
“Can I have a word?” Ron approaches Lewis, his face looks pale, worried, gaunt.  
  
“What’s the matter?” Lewis asks, his eyes widen at the sight of his mentor, the man he considers his father. “Is this about the target I just painted on my back?”  
  
“Your back? What about my back? Lewis, you know, you’re supposed to tell me these things. What do you think the stock drop will be tomorrow?”  
  
Lewis pauses for a moment. “I suppose, forty points realistically?”  
  
“At minimum.” Ron’s eyes are dark. “Lewis, we’re a weapons manufacturer.”  
  
“I don’t want a body count to be our only legacy, Ron.” Lewis argues.  
  
“That’s what we do, Lewis. We make weapons.”  
  
“It’s my name on the side of the building. We’re not doing a good job of keeping the world in order.”  
  
“Then what, Lewis? We make baby bottles?” Ron teases.  
  
“I think we should look at the arc reactor technology again. My father-“  
  
“It was not cost effective, Lewis. It was a publicity stunt. We’re supposed to be a team, Lewis. You can’t do and make all these decisions without me-“  
  
“I know, Ron-“  
  
“Do you? Look, there’s nothing we can’t do if we stick together, like your father and I.”  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up.”  
  
“You have to let me handle stuff. I want you to promise you’ll lay low for a while.”  
  
Lewis nods, biting his lip.

* * *

  
“Nico, how big are your hands?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Just come down here…I need your help.” Lewis’s voice sounds muffled.  
  
Nico raises an eyebrow and lets his keycard slide through the slot. The door beeps to allow him access. Lewis is splayed out on the table before him, his shirt is lying in a crumpled ball on the tiled floor. Nico’s eyes fall on Lewis’s chest; bare and tanned, the arc reactor, glowing with a soft blue light embedded into the skin. It’s strange; that it’s almost become a part of him, Nico cannot picture him without the glow in his chest, the metal sliding against his dark skin.  
  
“I need your help for a second.” Lewis’s chocolate brown eyes fall on Nico.  
  
“Oh my god, isn’t that the thing that is keeping you alive?” Nico whispers, his eyes roving over the dim glow, the metal against Lewis’s skin.  
  
“It was,” Lewis says, smiling as he yanks the reactor out of his chest in one fluid motion. Nico glances at him, his eyes wide with panic.  
  
“What are you doing?” He whispers, his mouth open in shock.  
  
“It’s an antique, Nico, don’t worry. I have a new one right here. I just swapped it for an upgraded unit but there’s a problem with one of the wires.”  
  
Nico rolls his eyes and takes the old reactor from Lewis’s hands, trying to ignore the warmth in his fingers. “What do you need me to do?”  
  
“I need you to put your hand inside it and pull out the wire that is causing a short, just gently lift it out-“  
  
Nico bites his lip. “Is it safe?”  
  
“Yes, one hundred perfect, ust don’t touch the socket wall-“  
  
Nico pauses, his fingers inside the cavity. “What?”  
  
“It’s fine, you’re doing great. Just lift the wire gently-“  
  
“You know, I don’t think I’m qualified to do this.” Nico begins to move his fingers away.  
  
Lewis’s eyes lock on his. “You’re the most qualified person to do this, you’re the only person I trust, Nico.”  
  
Nico bites his lip and glances down at the cavity before him. “This copper wire here?”  
  
“Yes, don’t let it touch the sides when you take it out gently.”  
  
“Oh god, don’t pull it, oh god-“  
  
“What, what?” Nico whispers, his green eyes wide with panic. “What is happening?”  
  
“There was a magnet on the end of that and-“ Lewis seems to pale before Nico.  
  
“What do I do? What’s wrong?” Nico whispers, the wire still in his fingers.  
  
“Nothing, I’m going into cardiac arrest-“ Lewis pants.  
  
“What?” Nico screams. “You said it was safe.”  
  
“Just-“ Lewis pauses for a breath. “Just switch it to the other one.”  
  
“Lewis, it’s gonna be okay. I’m going to make it okay.” Nico whispers, almost to convince himself as he grabs the new arc reactor. “Tell me what to do.”  
  
“Just attach to the base plate there and you should hear a click as it makes contact with my chest wall.” Lewis says carefully, exhaling deeply as the arc reactor clicks into place.  
  
Nico pushes back the hair that has fallen against his face. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
“Don’t ever, ever, ever ask me to do anything like that again.” Nico says, his voice still shaky from the adrenaline.  
  
“I don’t have anyone but you, Nico.”  
  
Nico can’t look into Lewis’s eyes. “So what do you want me to do with this?” He asks, the old arc reactor still in his hand, it’s still warm from Lewis’s skin.  
  
“Get rid of it, destroy it.”  
  
“You don’t want to keep it?” Nico raises an eyebrow.  
  
“You know I’m not a sentimental man, Nico.” Lewis smiles at him.  
  
“Will that be all, Mr Hamilton?”  
  
“That will be all, Mr Rosberg.”  
  
Nico nods, keeping hold of the reactor.  
  



	2. I am Iron Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewis figures everything out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buzzing about Lewis so I took the opportunity to finish it, enjoy G!

Lewis smirks as he steps out into his workshop. The metal boots he’s constructed are heavy on his feet. He exhales deeply, setting his feet apart and spreading his weight evenly.  He glances over at his workbench; Nico had ended up placing the arc reactor into a glass box with the words inscribed, _Proof that Lewis Hamilton has a Heart_ on it. Lewis smiled when he received it, Nico had blushed.  
  
“Okay,” Lewis announces to Vivian. “Lets just start off with 1% thrust capacity. I don’t want any accidents.”  
  
Vivian complies and sparks begin to fly out from underneath the metal boots on his feet. He feels himself shunt forward as the boots carry him an inch off the floor. He manages to stabilise himself and smiles at his progress. The boots haven’t stopped yet.  
  
“Oh, please don’t follow me around, I feel like I’m going to burst into flames.” Lewis tells the fire extinguisher trained on him.  
  
“Okay, Viv, lets turn it up to 2.5.”  
  
“Of course, Sir.” Vivian says as Lewis feels himself catapult up into the air, his boots fire up against the asphalt and he feels himself become caught off balance. He feels himself pitch forward in the air but he manages to catch himself before he ends up on the floor. He feels himself roll backwards as he fights to keep his balance.  
  
“Okay, this is where I don’t want to be, not over the car!” Lewis yells, steering himself away from his shiny Mercedes.  
  
“Should I turn it down, Sir?” Vivian asks, as Lewis overcooks his next step crashing into the table, hissing in pain as his back cracks the wood.  
  
“Could be worse.” Lewis announces to Vivian as he manages to crawl away from the table, splinters sticking in his thumb. “Yeah, I can fly.”  
  
He glances up at the armour before him. “Do you think we can give her a test drive today?” He asks Vivian, his fingers ghosting over the silver metal.  
  
“Sir, the diagnostic patch hasn’t finished its configuration just yet-“  
  
“Vivian, sometimes you got to learn to run before you can walk.” Lewis says, as the armour begins to mould itself to his body.  
  
“It handles like a dream.” Lewis smiles as the suit ends up encasing his body. “Lets see what this thing can do.”  
  
Vivian sighs heavily as Lewis blasts out of the workshop, he whoops as he feels the sensation of weightlessness below him. Lewis smirks widely as he continues to climb through the sky in the suit.  
  
When he lands, he groans in pain as the armour pulls away from his body. “Remember to add a de-icing function, I felt her drop a little out there. Don’t we have a function tonight, Vivian?”  
  
“Yes, Sir. I’ll get on that.”  
  
“Oh, and Vivian? When you’re rendering it, throw it a little hot-rod red in there, it can match my plane.” Lewis smiles as he slips on a pair of sunglasses.  
  
“Of course Sir, completion time is five hours from now.”  
  
Lewis glances at his Rolex. “Don’t wait up for me honey.”

* * *

  
Lewis gently opens the door, the apartment is half in shadows. He rolls his neck back, feeling the knot forming in the back of it. He’s about to pass his lounge when he sees two figures standing by the window.  
  
“Most people just knock.” Lewis calls out.  
  
“We’re not most people, Mr Hamilton.” The man turns around, familiarity surges to the forefront of his mind. “Agent Lowe.”  
  
“Oh yes, the guy from the-“  
  
“Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division.” Agent Lowe cuts in, smiling widely.  
  
“You should just call it SHIELD, like I initially said.” The other figure steps out of the shadows. Lewis feels his mouth go dry. The woman is stunning; long brown hair in a bun, glasses perched on the end of her nose, her curves shaped by the close-cut pencil skirt and white shirt. She doesn’t smile at Lewis, glancing over at Agent Lowe.  
  
“Ah, yes, Mr Hamilton. This is my assistant, Miss Michibata, she will be assisting me with the debrief.”  
  
“Well, I’m glad for the extra help.” Lewis grins.  
  
Miss Michibata doesn’t smile back as she extends her hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Mr Hamilton?”  
  
“Please call me Lewis, and you are?”  
  
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Miss Michibata smiles, it’s small. Her fingers brush over Lewis’s for a moment.

* * *

  
Nico pushes the paperwork into Lewis’s hands, watching the billionaire’s brown eyes, fixed on Miss Michibata and Jenson, Lewis’s bodyguard, in the boxing ring.  
  
“I need your signatures on these, please.” Nico begins.  
  
Lewis looks up from his tablet. “I looked up Miss Michibata, did you know her first name is Jessica?”  
  
“Yeah, she told me.” Nico rolls his eyes.  
  
“She speaks several different languages; Russian, Japanese, English, French, Latin-“  
  
“Latin is a dead language.” Nico cuts in.  
  
“But I bet she has a talented tongue.” Lewis says absent-mindedly.  
  
They both are torn from their conversation as Miss Michibata – Jessica – manages to wrap her legs around Jenson’s neck and bring him down to the ground in a fell swoop. Nico rolls his eyes at the sparkle in Lewis’s eyes, he tries to pretend it doesn’t hurt.

* * *

  
“You’re angry at me.” Lewis’s voice drifts into Nico’s ear. “I can tell.”  
  
“I’m not angry, Lewis.” Nico says gently, downing the rest of his champagne. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I’m trying to avoid that agent again. I’d be only too happy for Miss Michibata to debrief me but- do you want to dance?”  
  
Nico shakes his head, pulling his hand away from Lewis’s. “No, thank you.”  
  
“Nico, am I making you uncomfortable?”  
  
“No, the fact that I am in a Hugo Boss suit more expensive than my rent and that my boss wants to dance with me makes me uncomfortable.”  
  
“But you look great.” Lewis smiles. “I could fire you if you want to feel more uncomfortable.” His hand moves to ghost over Nico’s shoulder. They fall into a dance, Nico feels his cheeks heat up.  
  
“You wouldn’t survive a week without me,” Nico smirks, the blush still staying on his cheeks.  
  
“I could-“  
  
“What’s your passport number?” Nico cocks his head.  
  
“Okay, you’ve got me there-“  
  
“Lewis, just stop-“ Nico says as they dance around, Lewis’s Rolex is gleaming brightly on his wrist. He’s wearing those ridiculous sunglasses once more.  
  
“We’re dancing, Nico. It’s harmless, nobody is watching,” Lewis smiles.  
  
“Everybody I work with is watching, Lewis. It was not just a dance, you don’t understand because you’re just you. Everyone knows who you are and who I am and we’re dancing together-“ Nico pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath.  
  
“Can I cut in?” A silky voice says. Miss Michibata, Jessica, smiles at the pair in her slinky red silk dress. Nico watches as Lewis’s eyes slide over her body, his hand falls away from Nico’s.   
  
Nico moves away, ignoring the dampness in the corners of his eyes as he watches Lewis and Jessica glide across the dancefloor together. He pulls off his teal bowtie, a present from Lewis, and walks away.

* * *

  
Lewis isn’t surprised to find Ron in his office on Monday morning, fiddling with the bulldog ornament on his desk. He stands up when Lewis enters, his shoulders are squared in his charcoal grey suit, his face like stone. He throws the newspaper onto Lewis’s desk, there’s his smiling face staring back at him, arm around Miss Michibata. Ron opens his mouth and closes it again.  
  
“You told me to lay low for a while, Ron, and that’s what I’ve been doing.” Lewis begins, holding his hands up.  
  
“I know, and I said I would deal with everything-“ Ron replies, he pinches his nose carefully as he exhales. “There was a board of directors meeting last night, Lewis.”  
  
“A board of directors meeting without the CEO? Very classy-“ Lewis begins but Ron shakes his head.  
  
“Let me finish. The board is claiming that you have post-traumatic stress. They’re filing an injunction against you.”  
  
“What?” Lewis asks.  
  
“They want to lock you out of the company.”  
  
“Why? Because the stocks dipped forty points? We knew that was going to happen, Ron.”  
  
“Fifty six and a half.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Lewis replied immediately. “We own the controlling interest in the company.”  
  
“Lewis, the board has rights too. They’re making the case that you and your new direction isn’t in the company’s best interest.”  
  
“I’m trying to be responsible, Ron. This is a new direction for me but if they can’t say that-“ Lewis moves to swipe up the newspaper and leave.  
  
“Come on, Lewis, Lewis-“ Ron begins, moving to chase after the younger man.  
  
“I’ll be in the shop.” Lewis states. However, Ron’s hand clasps his shoulder, stopping him.  
  
“I’m trying to turn this thing around but you have got to get me something, something to pitch them.” He pauses for a moment. “Let me have the engineers analyse that-“ He points to the glowing teal arc reactor visible through Lewis’s white shirt. “Draw up some specs.”  
  
“No,” Lewis argues, “Absolutely not, this one stays with me.”  
  
“It’ll give me something for the boys in New York.”  
  
“Forget it, Ron. It’s over.” Lewis continues, moving to clasp the door handle to his office.  
  
“Lewis,” Ron says carefully. “Do you mind if I come down to your shop with you and see what you’re doing?”  
  
“Goodnight, Ron.” Lewis replies, closing the door behind him.  


* * *

  
Lewis speeds through the sky, rapping lightly under his breath. He doesn’t realise that he’s been picked up on the radars as he speeds over the North Sea, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness. The wrinkles in the suit’s design have been ironed out; Lewis can now fly with no issues.  
  
“Get those monitors up!” The crisp voice snaps. “We’ve got a live one.”  
  
“Wasn’t Royal Air Force, I’m contacting the CIA.”  
  
“It wasn’t the navy or the marines, Sir.”  
  
“Can we get eyes on the target?” The blue eyes rest on the monitors, the cigar poised in between his fingers. “Get me Colonel Vettel from Weapons Development right now.”  
  
“We cross referenced all known traffic in the area, Sir. I checked all the databases twice. I think it’s an unmanned aerial vehicle.”  
  
“Shoot it down.” The cigar is pulled to the man’s lips.  
  
“But Sir, Colonel Vettel is here-“  
  
The man spins around. “Ah, Colonel Vettel, what are we dealing with here?”  
  
Sebastian Vettel’s eyes widen as he glances at the monitor. He shuffles around in his uniform. “Let me make a call.”  
  
“Lewis?” Sebastian hisses as quietly as he can.  
  
“Who is this?” Lewis sounds like he’s underwater, the static overwhelms his voice.  
  
“It’s Seb.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“It’s Seb. What the hell is that noise, Lewis?” Sebastian hisses.  
  
“Oh, I’m driving with the top down.” Lewis says absent-mindedly.  
  
“I need your help, Lewis.”  
  
“Funny how that works isn’t it?”  
  
“Speaking of funny, a weapons depot got blown up a few clicks away from where you were captured. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” Sebastian asks.  
  
“No, I don’t know anything about that, Seb, you know me, I stay out of trouble-“  
  
“Why do you sound out of breath, Lewis?” Sebastian says, narrowing his eyes.  
  
“I…nothing. I just almost crashed into the Ferrari in front of me-“  
  
“Right, so you don’t have any tech in the area I should know about?” Sebastian presses, voice low.  
  
“None,” Lewis says.  
  
“Okay, good, because I’m staring at one and it’s about to get blown to kingdom come.” Sebastian says.  
  
Lewis curses under his breath. He sees the missile approaching him and dodges out of its path as it slides into the water, exploding in a flash of white light.  
  
“Lewis!” Sebastian yells.  
  
“Seb? It’s me, okay?”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Sebastian asks.  
  
“What you asked about is me.” Lewis says finally.  
  
“This isn’t a game, Lewis.” Sebastian yells. “You do not send civilian equipment into my war zone, Hamilton, under no circumstances.”  
  
“It’s not a piece of equipment, it’s me, Seb. I’m in the suit-“  
  
Sebastian swears as he watches the two fighter jets appear on the monitors alongside the object. It seems to dodge both, fires something, like a bolt of energy out of its palm, shattering one of the wings. The bullets seem to spray over the metal figure but they do not seem to deter it from attack. Sebastian hears Lewis laugh as he does so, he tries to remain stoic.  
  
“Lewis, you crazy son of a bitch, you still there?” Sebastian says after a moment. The people around him are trying desperately to call in reinforcements.  
  
“Yeah.” Lewis sounds out of breath.  
  
“You owe me a plane, you know that?”  
  
Lewis laughs. “Technically, he hit me.”  
  
“You owe me more than a plane for sorting out the press on this situation, Lewis.”  
  
“I’ll get Nico to send you your favourite beer.”  
  


* * *

  
Lewis hisses in pain as the suit is pulled from his aching body. He curses under his breath as the chest plate seems to stick to his dark skin, bruises already beginning to bloom on his body.

“I’m trying to be as gentle as I can, Sir.” Vivian says. “The more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt.”  
  
“I designed it to come off so-“ Lewis hisses as the suit sticks once more to his skin, sweat hangs on his hairline.  
  
“I’m trying my best, Sir.” Vivian replies, her voice soft.  
  
“Be gentle, this is my first time.”  
  
“Somehow, I don’t believe that-“ A familiar voice cuts in. Nico stands before him, his green eyes wide, his suit is pristine and he’s wearing his glasses, paperwork clasped against his chest.  
  
“What’s going on here?” He asks, his mouth wide open.  
  
“Lets face it, Nico, this is not the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.” Lewis winces as the chest plate finally comes free.  
  
“Are those bullet holes?” Nico cuts in, eyes wide.  
  
“Maybe.” Lewis bites his lip. He’s pulled back into his thoughts; he remembers feeling the dirt on his skin, slowly becoming used to the magnet glowing in the centre of his chest, the wounds begin to knit together as he and Senna work together to construct the suit of armour. It stands before them, the dull metal glows in the light.  
  
“So you’re a man who has everything and nothing.”  
  
Lewis stiffens. Senna continues speaking, “The bow and arrow were once the pinnacle of weapon technology. They allowed so many great empires to form. But nowadays whoever holds the latest Hamilton weapons rules these lands-“ He’s cut off by a sharp tap on the bars. He begins shouting at Senna in a language that Lewis does not understand.  
  
“What does he want?” Lewis asks.  
  
“He wants to know when it will be finished.” The man holds his knife up to Senna’s throat.  
  
Lewis’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, I need him, good assistant.” There’s a moment of silence as Senna stays still, unmoving. Lewis holds up his hands as though in surrender.  
  
The man cocks his head for a moment before he removes the knife. “You have until tomorrow, Mr Hamilton.” He says, his voice cracking on the broken English. He leaves the cell, the metal creaking in the air, the faint sound of his footsteps moving away through the dust.  
  
Senna immediately springs into action. Lewis grunts as the crude armour slides over his body; it’s heavy and hard against his aching skin.  
  
“Can you move?” Senna says quietly. “It’s forty steps straight ahead, 16 steps to the right, 33 steps and turn left-“  
  
There’s echoes in the background of their names been called again and again, the sound of a metallic clang. There’s anger in their voices.  
  
“Say something back to him, hold them off for a little while longer-“  
  
“He’s speaking in Hungarian, I don’t-“ The confusion on Senna’s face suddenly melts away. He calls out something that Lewis cannot decipher before he turns back to the power suit. Lewis can barely see his face through the tiny slits on the iron mask.  
  
“Almost finished, I need to initialise the power sequence.” Senna says, his voice calm.  
  
“Can you see a power bar? It should be up right now.”  
  
“I can see it.” Senna says.  
  
“Okay, press Enter and then the one number key.” Lewis says, trying to keep his voice even, he feels his heart racing. Senna suddenly freezes as he hears voices moving towards them. They sound angry, almost raving in the depths of the cave. Lewis aims the device towards the bars of the cage and fires. The bars explode before them, bending out of shape. Senna and Lewis exchange glances, thankful that the weapon works.  
  
“They’re coming.” He supplies.  
  
“I know,” Lewis replies, “Just make sure that the checkpoints are clear before you follow me out, okay?”  
  
Senna bites his lip. “We need more time, I’m going to buy you more time.” His eyes look determined.  
  
“Stick to the plan, Senna!” Lewis barks.  
  
Senna turns on his heel and sprints out of the cave, yelling at the top of his lungs.  
  
“Senna!” Lewis calls after him. He hits a lone gunshot and somebody crumple to the floor. Lewis, panicked, moves as quickly as he can in the direction of the gunshot, his muscles shouting out in agony as he moves his feet across the dusty floor. His eyes widen as he turns the corner to see an array of men standing in an arc blocking the exit, their hands filled with guns and various other weapons. Lewis stops for a moment, there’s deathly quiet. Senna lies crumpled in front of the men, blood pooling around him, it’s stark red against the sand. Lewis feels his teeth grit in anger; as he moves forward. He hears the cocking of triggers against calloused fingers.  
  
He takes another step. The bullets shower the armour, the noise is deafening against his ears. Lewis grits his teeth and continues moving forward; he cannot see anything through the small slits. He can feel the armour bend and mould under his body, the bullets seem to twist the metal as they ricochet off the metal with a clang.  
He lifts his arm as the bullets seem to stop for a moment. He whispers a prayer between his lips as he feels the power surge through the suit. The bolt of energy expels from his palm and it travels towards the men, sending them scattering away in different directions. There’s a clatter of guns dropped into the dust.  
  
Lewis lets the trace of a smile curve over his lips as he aims for the braver men, the ones still standing reloading their guns with crude cartridges.  He aims his hand again, this time his aim isn’t as perfect and he misses his target but some of the men still flee as Lewis manages to fire the energy into the face of the cave wall. Chunks of stones begin to fall out of the face, onto the dusty floor. Lewis moves forward as one of the gunmen fires again. Lewis grabs hold of the gun and twists it around into a knot, thrusting the man against the wall.  
More chunks of the rock face crumble away, the other men begin to flee. Lewis watches them leave before he slides up the iron mask in front of his face. He’s panting heavily as he drops to his knees.  
  
“Senna-“ He calls out, brushing back the man’s hair from his bloodied face. “The plan-“  
  
“This was always the plan, Hamilton.” Senna coughs, blood flecking over his lips.  
  
“Come on, you’re going to go and see your family.”  
  
“My family are dead,”  
  
The only noise is Senna’s shallow breathing. “I’m going to see them now, Lewis.”  
  
“No-“  
  
“It’s okay, I want this, I want this-“ Senna’s breaths become shallower.  
  
“Thank you for saving me,” Lewis whispers, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes.  
  
“Don’t waste your life, Hamilton. Don’t waste it.” Senna replies, he inhales once as his eyes slowly fall shut. They do not open again.  
  
Lewis doesn’t cry until he drops to his knees in front of Sebastian. His blonde hair glints in the hot desert sun, he looks like a mirage. Lewis’s brown eyes widen at the sight of his best friend. Sebastian bites his lip, glancing down at Lewis, his fingers move to cup Lewis’s face covered in blood and dirt.  
Lewis blinks up at Sebastian, owlishly. His mouth is wide open, his lips are cracked.  
  
“Next time, you ride with me, okay?” Sebastian says gently.  
  
Lewis doesn’t even come up with a funny retort. He feels the pain cut through every limb, every muscle. He feels the tears prick up in his eyes once more as he thinks about Senna’s lifeless body. Lewis glances down at his chest, at Senna’s greatest work; saving him so he could make a difference.  
  
He grits his teeth, his fingers dance over the arc reactor.

* * *

  
“Compliments of Lewis Hamilton.” The man says, throwing the blueprints onto the table. “He escaped, but he left these plans of what he created.”  
  
Slate grey eyes narrow. “Alas, if you’d killed him properly like you were supposed to-“  
  
“You paid us mere trinkets to kill a prince,”  
  
The question remains unchallenged. “Show me the weapon.”  
  
The man raises an eyebrow but he motions for his guards to wheel out the gift from the shadows. Grey eyes settle on the model, a grin stretches over thin lips. “This a crude effort.”  
  
“Hamilton has perfected his design. I expect the same.”  
  
“A man with a dozen of these could rule all of Asia and yet you dream of Hamilton’s throne.”  
  
“We have a common enemy. His throne would have been mine.” He pauses for a moment. “I will give you these designs as a gift, in turn, you will provide me with an army of these iron soldiers.”  
  
“Technology. It was always your Achilles heel, Mr Dennis.”  
  
Ron Dennis smiles widely before he waves his hand away. “Just do as I tell you.”

* * *

  
“Is this what Lewis Hamilton calls accountability?” Lewis glances up at the television screen, his face like stone as he carefully makes adjustments to one of his arm pieces, the hot rod red of the metal stands out against his skin.  
  
His phone rings, the photo of Nico shows up on the display.  
  
“Nico-“ Lewis begins.  
  
“You idiot, what you were thinking? Gulmira of all places, Lewis-“ Nico snaps.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nico,” Lewis says, carefully.  
  
“The news, Lewis. They’re saying that you gave weapons to terrorists, there’s photos of them handling missiles with your name on them.” Nico continues to talk, he sounds angry.  
  
“I didn’t approve any shipment-“  
  
“Well, somebody in Hamilton Industries did.”  
  
“I’ll handle it, Nico.” Lewis hangs up on the blonde. He tosses his phone away.

* * *

  
“Hey, are you busy? I need to send you on an errand.” Lewis says as Nico walks into his office the next morning, his face is like thunder, his hair artfully mussed, he’s wearing a shirt that Lewis hasn’t seen before.  
  
“Depends, are you going to stop been a dick?” Nico snaps, smoothing down his suit.  
  
“I’m always a dick,” Lewis replies. “I need you to hack into the mainframe and retrieve the recent shipping manifests.”  
  
He presses something into Nico’s hands. “This is a lock chip, it will get you in,” He continues, “It’s probably under Executive Files, if not, look for the lowest numeric heading.”  
  
Nico bites his lip. “And what do you plan to do with this information if I bring it back here?”  
  
“They’ve been dealing under the table, Nico, I’m going to stop them. I’m going to find my weapons and destroy them.”  
  
“Lewis-“ Nico says carefully, “you know that I would help you with anything, but I can’t help you if you’re going to start all of this again.”  
  
“There’s nothing except this,” Lewis glances up at Nico. “No art openings, no benefits, nothing but the next mission.”  
  
Nico squares his jaw. “Then, I quit.” He says, softly. His green eyes are full of tears. He presses the key back into Lewis’s hand.  
  
Lewis holds Nico’s gaze. “You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction. Now that I’m trying to protect people that I put in harm’s way, you’re going to walk out?” He yells.  
  
“You’re going to kill yourself, Lewis. I won’t be a part of that-“ Nico spits back with venom.  
  
“I shouldn’t be alive, unless it was for a reason. I’m not crazy, I just know what I have to do and I know in my heart it’s right.”  
  
Nico exhales deeply as he steps forward and retrieves the key from Lewis’s hand. “You’re all I have too, you know.”  
  
Lewis smiles.

* * *

  
Nico carefully walks through the headquarters of Hamilton Industries, glancing around. His leather shoes make the smallest sound on the tiled floor. He approaches Ron’s office, looking both ways before he slides the door open and steps inside. He moves towards the computer, sitting down in the leather chair. Nico carefully inserts the key into the computer’s USB port and watches as the words, Security Breach, appear on the screen.  
  
He glances at his watch for a moment as the drive hacks into the system easily, showing up the files on the computer. He carefully scrolls through them, the first two files are full of missile plans and shipping orders. However, the next file has designs that look familiar.  
  
Nico raises his eyebrow. “Sector 44? What are you up to, Ron?”  
  
He clicks on the next file, a video comes up. There’s several armed men standing around a man with a cloth bag over his head. The bag is pulled away, the face of Lewis stares back at Nico from the computer.  
  
“You did not tell us that the target you paid us to kill was the great Lewis Hamilton. As you can see, Ron Dennis, your deception and lies will cost you dearly-“  
  
Nico hits copy. He glances up at the door and his eyes widen at the sight of Ron standing in the doorway in a black suit, grinning widely.  
  
“So what are we going to do about this?” Ron says, stepping into the room. He moves over to the liquir cabinet, selecting a whiskey and pouring a hit of the smooth amber liquid into a glass. “I know what you’re going through, Nico,” Ron smiles as he knocks down the whiskey with a sigh. “Oh, Lewis, he always gets the good stuff doesn’t he?”  
  
There’s a pregnant pause. “I was so happy when he came home. It was like we got him back from the dead-“ He allows his fingers to dance over the crystal glass. “Now I realise, well, Lewis never really come home, did he?” He moves over to where Nico is sitting, Nico ensures that he selects screensaver mode.  
  
“He left a part of himself in that cave, it breaks my heart.”  
  
Nico smiles at the older man. “He’s a complicated person… he’s been through a lot. I think he’ll be alright.”  
  
Ron smiles back. “You’re a very rare man. Lewis doesn’t know how lucky he is.”  
  
Nico continues pasting on the false smile. “Thank you, I guess I better be going.” He moves to collect the paper he placed over the drive, keeping hold of it in his hand. He walks away from Ron. His hand is on the door handle when Ron speaks out again.  
  
“Is that today’s paper?”  
  
“Yes,” Nico says carefully.  
  
“Do you mind?” Ron asks, moving towards him with his hand outstretched. “Puzzle.” He smiles.  
  
Nico smiles back and leaves the room. As he walks away, he feels Ron’s eyes burning onto him, his fingers tighten around the hard drive.  
  
Ron settles back down into his chair and moves the mouse.  
  
Download complete. The screen declares.  
  
His hands tighten around his glass of scotch.

* * *

  
“Mr Rosberg? We had an appointment. Did you forget about our appointment?” A voice appears from behind him. Nico pauses for a moment, his eyes wide with shock. They land on the agent guy from before, the one with the sharp face and thinning hair – Agent Lowe or something – Nico smiles as he tucks the harddrive away.  
  
“Nope, right now, come with me.”  
  
“Right now?” Agent Lowe looks perplexed. “We’re going to have it right now?”  
  
“Yes, walk with me. It’s going to be the meeting of your life.”

* * *

  
The door is wrenched open. An irate Ron Dennis stalks through it, glancing around the workshop.  
  
“Mr Dennis,”  
  
Ron doesn’t respond. “Sir, we’ve explored everything you asked of us, but there’s unfortunately a small flaw-“  
  
“A small flaw?” Ron repeats, his voice slightly sweet.  
  
“Yes, to power the suit, sir. The technology actually does not exist-“  
  
“Ross, the technology is right here-“ He points to the glowing orb in front of them. “I’ve simply asked you to make it smaller.”  
  
“That’s what we’re trying to do, Sir, but it’s impossible.”  
  
“Lewis Hamilton was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!”  
  
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not Lewis Hamilton.”  
  
Ron huffs, the door slams shut.

* * *

  
Lewis collapses on his couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. He notices that his phone is ringing; the photo of Nico lights up the screen. He lifts it to his ear and answers it.  
  
“Hello?” He feels a rush of cold travel through him, rendering him helpless. He senses a warm hand wrapping around his neck, guiding his head down into the soft cushions.  
  
“Easy, easy-“ A familiar smoky voice says. The face of Ron Dennis appears before Lewis grinning widely. “You remember this one, right? It’s a shame the government didn’t approve of it.”  
  
Ron pauses for a minute, examining the small gadget. “There’s so many applications for causing short term paralysis…” He stops again. “In the end, it was easy. I was the one who locked you out, Lewis, the one who filed the injunction against you. At first, I thought it was the only way I could protect you-“  
  
There’s another pause. “I ordered the hit on you. I was worried that I was killing you too early, that Hamilton Industries would fall.”  
  
Lewis remains motionless.  
  
“Do you really think that just because you have an idea, it belongs to you? Your father never did that, what kind of world would it be if he was as selfish as you?” Ron smiles as he pulls a silver contraption out of his pocket and angles it over Lewis’s chest. Lewis can only watch as it clamps down onto his chest.  
  
Ron smiles again as he pushes down, sending a wave of pain through Lewis’s chest. He carefully pulls out the reactor from Lewis’s chest, glancing at the teal glow with awe.  
  
“It’s beautiful,” Ron says as he yanks the wires away. Lewis gasps out in pain.  
  
“This is your legacy,” Ron says, moving the arc reactor in front of Lewis’s face. “There’s going to be a new generation of weapons with this at the forefront, to keep the world on its course, put power in the right hands.”  
  
He pats Lewis’s knee in an almost comforting manner. “Too bad you had to involve Nico in this, I would have preferred that he lived.”  
  
The warmth disappears. Ron stalks away.

* * *

  
“What do you mean, he paid to have Lewis killed?” Sebastian says as he drives his Infiniti sportscar through the streets of London. He pinches his temples.  
  
“Nico, just slow down-“ He says, “Why would Ron…okay, where is Lewis right now?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Nico replies. “He’s not answering his phone. Can you go over and make sure everything is okay?”  
  
“Sure,” Sebastian replies before he hangs up.  
  
“I know a shortcut,” Nico states to Agent Lowe as they move towards the fleet of armoured cars.  
  
“No need, Mr Rosberg.” A familiar voice calls out. Miss Michibata – Jessica, Nico’s mind supplies – stands before them, smiling widely. Her hair is down and she’s wearing a tight leather jumpsuit.  
  
“I think you’ve met Agent Michibata?”  
  
“Charmed as always,” Nico says carefully. “You were undercover this whole time?”  
  
“We’ve had our eye on Ron Dennis for a while. We’ll get the bastard.” Jessica smiles.

* * *

  
Lewis finds himself coming back into unconsciousness, a dull haze hanging over his brain. “Lewis, Lewis!” There’s a warm hand pressing against his shoulder. He finds himself pulled back into reality; he’s shaking slightly, covered in sweat.  
  
“Seb-“ He begins, “I need the reactor-“  
  
“What?” Sebastian asks.  
  
“The reactor in the glass case, I need it.”  
  
Lewis hears a loud crash before the reactor is placed carefully into his shaking hands. Lewis takes a deep breath before he presses the old reactor back into place.  
  
“Where’s Nico?” Lewis breathes after a moment.  
  
“He’s fine, he’s with five agents.” Sebastian says with a smile. “They’re going to arrest Ron now-“  
  
“It’s not going to be enough.”

* * *

  
“Section 44, Section 44, there it is.” Nico says as he glances at the numbers down in the warehouses down by the docks. He steps up to the door and produces a key card.  He slides it into the slot, but the light remains red.  
  
“My key isn’t working-“ Nico says, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not opening the door.”  
  
Agent Lowe nods and moves forward to place something into the lock. He jams it up tight and fingers his gun carefully,  
  
“Is that going to pick the lock?” Nico asks. Agent Lowe presses the button and the device begins to flash.  
  
“Might want to take a few steps back, Mr Rosberg.” Agent Lowe says carefully as Nico moves to stand beside Jessica, covering his ears.  
  
The explosion breaks the lock on the door. It creaks open.

* * *

  
Lewis exhales deeply as Vivian’s machines strap him into his suit. Sebastian watches at the side, his blue eyes wide as he takes in the armour over Lewis’s body, the hot red contrasting with the gold. Lewis glances at Sebastian as the suit is clipped into place. Vivian keeps the helmet up for now.  
  
“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian remarks.  
  
“Not bad huh?” Lewis grins.  
  
Sebastian watches as Lewis walks away, the grin still clinging to his face. “Need me to do anything else?”  
  
“Keep the skies clear.” Lewis replies as his helmet falls down, shadowing his face from view. He propels himself through the ceiling by thrusters on his hands, bright teal light fills the darkness.  
  
Sebastian watches him go before his gaze falls on another suit, in silver. “Next time, maybe.” He says to himself.

* * *

  
Agent Lowe and Agent Michibata enter the corridor first, the other agents flank Nico. Nico struggles to see in the dim light however, he hears Agent Michibata suddenly dive into action. She dives down to the floor, anticipating the two henchmen who arrive – she slides past them easily, almost like a gymnast, before she slides forward her stunners.  They work with perfect precision. The next man is dispatched even easier as Agent Michibata dives into a forward roll and aims her legs just right to tangle around his neck, pulling him down to the floor with a groan. Another henchman arrives just at that moment, forcing the agent into another leap as she dives between his legs, punching his knee to make it give way. He yells in pain, giving her the opportunity to punch him in the face, dispatching him easily.  
  
Agent Michibata disarms the next two henchmen with two little gadgets that roll on the floor, smoke billows up from them, blinding the men for a moment. A moment is enough for the agent who brings one down with a well-aimed scissor kick and wrestles the other to the floor, her hands on his neck, her teeth bared in a snarl.  
  
The next one is dispatched easily by a simple zipwire across the throat before she turns to punch the henchman she felt moving in behind her. She stands up, her eyes fixed on the agents down the corridor. She walks towards them, her expression vacant. Nico watches her, glances at all the henchmen lying on the floor, incapacitated. He feels breath upon his neck and turns, there’s a henchmen behind him grinning. Nico acts quickly, snatching a gun out of one of the agents pockets and hitting the man around the face with it. He collapses. Nico drops the gun, his face paling.  
  
“Good work, Mr Rosberg.” Agent Michibata says, smiling. She pushes back her long dark hair.  
  
“Thanks, I’ve never held a gun before.” Nico replies, biting his lip.  
  
They continue into the depths of the warehouse. Agent Lowe leads the way with his gun. He pauses as they glance over a large, silver figure standing solitary in the shadows.  
  
“Looks like you were right, he was building a suit.” Agent Michibata says softly.  
  
“I thought it would be bigger,” Nico replies.  
  
The two agents begin to form a perimeter wordlessly. Nico casts his eyes up to the chains rattling quietly, the glow of the moonlight through the cracks in the ceiling. Suddenly, a pair of eyes, bathed in white light appear before him, the clang of metal moving fills the air. Nico’s eyes widen as he begins running. He doesn’t look behind him, he daren’t as he runs through the corridors, hearing the whirr of mechanics behind him, the creak of metal.

* * *

  
“How do you think the Mark One chest piece is going to hold up?” Lewis asks Vivian as they shoot through the sky, over the River Thames, over London bathed in moonlight.  
  
“The suit is at 44% power and falling, sir. That chest piece was never designed for sustained flight.” Vivian reminds him.  
  
“44…my lucky number. I’m feeling blessed, Vivian.” Lewis smiles as they speed towards the warehouse. He presses the number he knows off by heart into the telephone built into his suit. Nico picks up on the second ring to Lewis’s relief.  
  
“Nico,” Lewis says, carefully. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine. Ron has gone insane!” Nico yells.  
  
“Listen, Nico, you need to get out of there.” Lewis cuts in.  
  
“But he built a suit, Lewis-“  
  
“Get out of there right now, Nico!” Lewis yells.  
  
Before Nico can reply, he hears a familiar clang behind him. The voice that he’s so used to hearing sounds almost mechanical. “Where do you think you’re going?” He says to Nico through the expressionless mask. “Your services are no longer required, Nico.” He continues, aiming the gun on his arm at Nico.  
  
Nico’s green eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him. He exhales deeply.  
  
However, there’s a cry, it cuts through the cold London air. “Dennis!”  
  
Nico breathes a sigh of relief as Lewis’s suit, the hot-rod red still prominent, falls into view, slamming into Ron’s own suit. They skid across the asphalt, sparks flying up from the metal as they move away from the warehouse and into the next street. Cars on the road stop for a moment, their headlights making the metal on each suit gleam.  
  
“Divert power to chest.” Lewis instructs Vivian, feeling the surge towards his chest. He lets go of the blast, the teal coloured light powering into Ron and forcing him off his feet; he crashes into a nearby car with a thud.  
  
“Power reduced to 19%.” Vivian says.  
  
However, Ron picks himself back up and grabs the car, hitting Lewis around the head with it sending him into a nearby office block.  
  
“For thirty years, I’ve been holding you up!” He yells from within the suit, grabbing hold of Lewis and slamming him up into the bricks again and again. “I built this company from nothing and you’re not going to stand in my way!”  
  
He throws Lewis up into the air. Lewis, however, uses his thrusters to stay up in the air.  
  
Ron looks up at him. “You’ve upgraded your armour! Not to fear though, I’ve made some upgrades of my own.”  
  
Lewis watches as Ron’s suit morphs underneath to thrust down and lift his suit into the air.  
  
“Sir, it appears his suit can fly.” Vivian says.  
  
“I can see that, Viv. Can you take me to maximum altitude?”  
  
“But Sir,” Vivian argues. “With only 15% power, the odds of reaching that-“  
  
“I know,” Lewis cuts in. “I know the maths of it. Just do it please, Viv.”

* * *

  
“Sir, you’re not going to believe this, that thing is back.” One of them immediately picks up the phone ready to call through to the higher officer.  
  
“Get me Major Ecclestone, scramble the jets!”  
  
However, a pale hand is placed over the phone, ending the call. Sebastian smiles at the man. “Not, necessary, people. It’s just a training exercise.”  
  
“Yes, Colonel Vettel.”

* * *

  
Lewis continues to climb into the air, focused on the task at hand. He tries not to look behind him, to see Ron in the suit of armour he helped create, the father figure in tatters.  
  
“Thirteen percent power, sir.” Vivian informs him.  
  
“Just climb.” Lewis replies.  
  
“Eleven percent,”  
  
“Just keep going.”

“Six percent power.”  
  
“Just stop telling me, Vivian!” Lewis shouts. The teal glow of the arc reactor begins to flicker as Ron inches ahead and grabs hold of Lewis’s leg, pulling him towards him. He manages to seize hold of Lewis’s neck in his metal hands, squeezing gently.  
  
“You had a great idea, Lewis, but my suit is more advanced in every way.” Ron taunts.  
  
“How did you solve the icing problem?”  
  
“Icing problem?” Ron begins to say as the circuits begin to shut off, the lights in his eyes begin to flicker.  
  
“Might want to look into it.” Lewis says as Ron’s suits loses full power and he steers himself to take a well-aimed punch at the helmet, sending his mentor soaring to Earth. Lewis watches him go before he feels his own lights flicker.  
  
“Twov percent, we’re now running on emergency back up power.” Vivian informs Lewis who uses the thrusters sparingly to move back down to the ground safely. He immediately calls Nico.  
  
“Nico,”  
  
“Lewis! Oh my god, are you okay?” Nico sounds worried.  
  
“I’m almost out of power.” Lewis states. “I’ve got to get out of this thing.” He begins to pull off his helmet and one of his arm shields.  
  
“Nice try.” Ron’s voice appears from behind him. Lewis dodges the punch and his helmet falls back into place. He holds out his hand to unleash a bolt of energy but he stops, realising that the arm shield is lying on the floor.  
  
Ron laughs as he aims a punch at Lewis, sending him flying into the wall. He grabs hold of Lewis and begins squeezing him. Lewis gasps in pain as the metal begins to contract around his form. “Weapons status?” He asks, breathlessly.  
  
“Repulsors offline, missiles offline.” Vivian supplies.  
  
“Guess it’s flares then.” Lewis replies as the flares go off, allowing him to wriggle his way free of Ron’s tight hold.  
  
“Very clever, Lewis.”  
  
Lewis presses himself up against the wall.  
  
“Nico,” He says softly as to not be disturbed.  
  
“Lewis!” Nico replies, he sounds relieved to hear Lewis’s voice.  
  
“This isn’t working, we’re going to have to overload the reactor and blast the roof.”  
  
“What are you going to do that?” Nico asks, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“I’m not, you are, just go to the central console, open up all the circuits. When I get clear of the roof, I’ll let you know and you hit the master bypass button.”  
  
“And what happens?” Nico asks.  
  
“We beat Ron Dennis.” Lewis replies. “I know you can do it.”  
  
Nico nods, keeping on the line as he carefully steps over the broken glass and runs back into the warehouse. He hits the wall and begins turning on all the knobs and switches he can find. He moves to the side and begins to press every button in sight, smiling when they all begin to glow green.   
  
Lewis jumps on Ron’s back as he prowls past and begins to rip out wires from the casing. “This looks important,” He smiles as he tosses the wires to the side. Ron, however, seizes his head and flips him up, throwing him as far as he can. Lewis winces in pain as he hits the top of the glass roof.  
  
“I never had a taste for this sort of thing, but I must admit, I feel strangely powerful. You finally outdid yourself, Lewis. You’d have made your father proud!” Ron yells as he moves towards Lewis.  
  
Nico presses the last button. “It’s ready, Lewis! Get off the roof!” He yells, glancing up at the glass ceiling. “Lewis!” He yells as he watches Ron open fire on the younger man, Lewis having to use his armour to protect his face, now exposed as his helmet had fallen to the floor. However, Ron aims at the glass floor and Lewis ends up falling through it. He clings to the metal edges of the roof, brown eyes fixed on Ron.  
  
“How ironic, Lewis. In trying to rid the world of weapons, you gave it its best ever.”  
  
“Nico, now!” Lewis yells as his fingers hold onto the metal, tightly.  
  
“Now, I’m going to kill you with it!” Ron declares, his smile wide as he aims his missile at Lewis. However, he misses by a number of yards. “You ripped out my targeting system, you little bastard.”  
  
“Hit the button, Nico!” Lewis yells.  
  
“You told me not to!” Nico shouts back.  
  
“As beautiful as this moment is, you need to hold still you little prick.” Ron declares, moving his missile back onto Lewis.  
  
“Just do it!” Lewis yells, his brown eyes wide.  
  
“You’ll die!” Nico snarls.

“Push it!” Lewis screams.  
  
Nico closes his eyes and presses the button. The arc reactor surges and burns bright white with light. Lewis is thrown back onto the roof, Ron’s suit is disarmed and he falls into the arc reactor, lost in the bright light. Lewis remains on the roof, his eyes fall shut, the teal light of the arc reactor begins to die.  
  
“Lewis!”  
  
Lewis opens his eyes to find worried green ones glaring at him. Nico’s warm hand folds onto his own. “Don’t leave me.” Nico whispers. He leans in and brushes their lips together for a moment. Lewis feels like he’s dreaming.  
  
“You’re too important for me to lose,” Nico whispers, as he pulls away.  
  
Agent Lowe and Michibata eventually take over as Lewis’s eyes slip shut away, Nico keeps hold of his hand, the agent’s guns guarding his back.

* * *

  
“You’ve all received the official statement of what occurred at Hamilton Industries last night. There have been unconfirmed reports that a robotic prototype malfunctioned and caused damage to the reactor. A member of Lewis Hamilton’s personal security staff-“ Sebastian reads from his cards in a monotone voice.  
  
Lewis watches from the sidelines, his fingers wrapped around a newspaper asking _Who is the Iron Man?  
  
_ “Iron Man is quite catchy, it has a nice ring to it, even though the suit is a gold-titanium alloy.”  
  
Nico raises an eyebrow from where he’s gently mopping up Lewis’s cut lip. “That’s the thing you focus on?”  
  
“Here[s your alibi.” Agent Lowe cuts in, holding it out for Lewis.  
  
“Okay,” Lewis says, glancing at Nico.  
  
“You were on your yacht. We have port papers that put you in Paris all night and sworn statements from fifty of your guests.”  
  
Lewis pinches his nose. “See, I was thinking maybe we should say it was just me and Nico alone on Paris.”  
  
“That’s what happened,” Agent Lowe cut in. “Just read it word for word.”  
  
Lewis skims through the paper. “There’s nothing about Dennis here.”  
  
“That’s being handled. He’s on vacation and small aircraft have such a poor safety record. Just stick to the statement and everything will be behind you.”  
  
Nico smiles as he smooths down the lapels of Lewis’s suit. Lewis grabs his hand and glances into green eyes. Agent Lowe clears his throat.  
  
“I better be going. You’ll be hearing from us.”  
  
“Thank you for all your help.” Nico calls out as he hears the door close. He glances at Lewis. “What? Somebody has to be nice.”  
  
“I still can’t believe Jessica works for him. That broke my heart.”  
  
Nico fixes Lewis with a look. “Not as much as you could,” Lewis says quickly. “I don’t feel like Iron Man.”  
  
“You’re not Iron Man.” Nico smooths over Lewis’s suit again.  
  
“Tell me you never think about that night.” Lewis whispers.  
  
Nico’s hands still.  “Which night? The night we danced together and then you went to get me a drink and left me there, by myself? Is that the night you’re talking about?” Nico smiles as Lewis opens his mouth and closes it again. “Thought so.”  
  
“I was thinking about that night we spent together, you know, the one where we both got naked.” Lewis says, smiling.  
  
“Will that be all, Mr Hamilton?” Nico says, feeling the blush spread over his cheeks.  
  
“That will be all, Mr Rosberg.”

* * *

  
“And now, Mr Hamilton has prepared a statement,” Sebastian says to the press. “He will not be taking any questions, thank you.”  
  
Lewis climbs up to the stands to a raucous applause. “It’s been a while since I was here, so I figured I’d stick to the speech this time.” He pauses, smiling as he begins to read. “There’s been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred-“  
  
“I’m sorry, Mr Hamilton.” A reporter cut in. “Do you expect us to believe that?”  
  
“I know it is confusing,” Lewis fires back. “It’s one thing to question the official story and another thing entirely to make wild accusations or to insinuate I’m a superhero.”  
  
The reporter raises her eyebrow. “I never said you were a superhero, Mr Hamilton.”  
  
“You didn’t?” Lewis cocks his head. “Well, good, because that would be fantastic and strange. I’m just not the hero type clearly.” He lays down the notes before him.  
  
“The truth is,” Lewis takes a deep breath. “I am Iron Man.”  
  
The press erupt, camera flashes appear from all angles. Lewis finds himself pulled away, he stares into angry green eyes.  
  
“Lewis, you said you weren’t going to say anything.” Nico shouts.  
  
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, you know me-“ Lewis replies.  
  
“I’m going to kill you.”  
  
“You can’t live without me.” Lewis says smugly as he moves forward, capturing his lips with Nico’s. They are soft against his own, he lets his tongue trace over them, smiling as Nico whines against his mouth.  
  
“I’ll let you off this once, Hamilton.” Nico says against his lips.

* * *

  
Lewis returns home to find his lounge shrouded in darkness, there’s a lone figure in shadows standing over by the window, holding a glass of scotch. Lewis immediately stiffens at the sight, on edge, his hands move into fists.  
  
“I am Iron Man,” The man declares, not moving from the window. “You think you’re the only superhero in the world?”  
  
Lewis doesn’t answer. The man continues to speak. “Mr Hamilton, you’ve become part of a bigger universe, you just don’t know it yet.”  
  
“Who the hell are you?” Lewis declares.  
  
“Niki Lauda, director of SHIELD.” The man finally moves into the light; he has pale skin, severe burns over his forehead, an eyepatch over one eye, his leather coat moves as he walks.  
  
“ I’m here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative, Mr Hamilton.”


End file.
